


Let the Azure Rust

by Conreeaght



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Witcher Fusion, Animal Death, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Hux is a general and a spymaster and a mage, Kylo Ren is a witcher and has cat-like eyes, M/M, Mention of Hux's Mother, Mention of people burning on stakes, Monsters, Old Love, Past Relationship(s), Past Romance, Witcher inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conreeaght/pseuds/Conreeaght
Summary: Kylo trained to be a witcher since he could remember. He survived the Trial of the Grasses but came damaged out of it, leastways in the eyes of his witcher masters.He left the order abruptly to travel and fight monsters for his living, be it real ones or those that hunt him in his dreams.Now, with a letter calling for him to the Grand Duchy of Arkanis in his hand,  he gets himself entangled in a monster contract that brings him with someone he once knew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here, my story for Kylux Big Bang 2018 (in part at least, I'm still writing it). It combines my two favourite fandoms: Kylux and The Witcher (books and games)!
> 
> The artwork was done by wonderful and patient [katiesghosts](http://katiesghosts.tumblr.com/)  
> Many thanks to my beta [huxandthehound](https://huxandthehound.tumblr.com/)

 

**Chapter 1**

 

_Wolves asleep amidst the trees_

_Bats all a swaying in the breeze_

_But one soul lies anxious wide awake_

_Fearing no manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths_

 

 

 

A tiny, perfectly white petal danced in the air and flattered down on a horse’s mane.

Kylo raised his face and covered eyes with his gloved hand against the warm sunlight of the early spring. He hadn’t expected that when he had left Temerian lands. Here, closer to the south, the spring came in haste, bringing the warmth of wind and the sun. It was more forgiving than the hungry gap far in the Northern Kingdoms still hidden under a thin, slippery coat of icing snow. A cloud of birds soared over Kylo’s head celebrating with a gleeful song the arrival of Spring.

The sun warming his face was a pleasant surprise. Kylo let his fur-lined hood to fall on his back. The alley was empty. No one could see him now, so he risked nothing. He looked at the azure blue sky, which was peeking among the branches bending under the whiteness of blossoms and buds.

His hand moved involuntarily catching a petal spiralling down on his head. Spooked by the sudden movement, his mount flung back his head and neighed shrilly, scaring small, grey birds of the tree branches. Fragrant rain of white and pink fell on Kylo.

“Hush, you stupid hack.” Kylo drew in the reins, trying to stop his horse mincing around the path.

Kylo had never known horse so craven. He had bought this old hack right after his previous mount had perished in the claws of a wyvern, and since then its replacement managed to get spooked by a rabbit hopping across the road and two girls playing by the creek. Kylo had no luck with horses. All of them had ended up tragically.

“It’s all fine now, Bread,” said Kylo, patting the horse on its arching neck. “Just wait till we reach Arkanis.”

Providing they would get there. In one piece and not killed by cowardly animals.

Kylo let the reins loose, stretched his arms and massaged his stiff neck. A week in the saddle was not as glamorous as some people thought. He needed this job. The war had drained the resources and people were not willing to pay him as much as he needed to survive.

He slipped his hand into a saddlebag. The letter he pulled out was quite old. A lavish paper, now creased and slightly torn on its edges, still bore a distant familiar smell that got fainter with time. Or maybe it was a memory amplified by the spring surrounding him.

A messenger in inconspicuous brownish grey riding attire had found Kylo in a small Temerian village. He pushed the letter into Kylo’s hands without an explanation. The lapis lazuli coloured seal had been almost worn out back then. It looked either like a grotesque tower or a dead fish, but it was his name written in elegant handwriting that caught his attention. Familiar like the scent that made his heart howl inside his chest.

He could have ignored the message and ride away to the opposite direction. And yet here he was, a week later, riding south with his heart in his mouth and clenching his fist around the pitiful piece of paper like his life was depending on it.

 

_My dearest friend…_

The heading had awakened all the conflicted emotions that still battled inside him after all those years. Anger. Disappointment. Old pain lined with hope and dormant desire.

Kylo crushed the letter in his grip. He wanted to tear the leaf of parchment into tiny shreds and burn it. Minute flames rose on his finger licking the letter in his palm.

Kylo shook off the sign and its magic. The flames turned to dust and disappeared. He knew the contents of the letter by heart now. He had read it so many times; the words, written with a confident elegance, carved into his mind.

 

… _I would never try to seek you if the situation was not dire. You are the only person I know who could handle such a matter discreetly and fast._

It almost sounded like an apology. Something Kylo didn’t want, not anymore. He needed the letter, however.

 

_...If, by any chance, you decide to come to the Great City of Arkanis, know that this letter ensures you a safe conduct pass. Reveal the seal to any guard or soldier bearing the Arkanian coat of arms, and they will let you in and show you the way. You have my word that you will be rewarded handsomely for your hard work._

“If only your word meant anything,” mumbled Kylo. He shoved the parchment back to the bag strapped to the saddle.

He wanted to turn the horse around and run away. He wanted to shout at the sky. The thought of the reward enticed him more than acting cowardly. He knew that kind of desperate calling the letter carried. The secrecy meant money. And the money he needed. He still had debts that had to be paid off.

Silence, which suddenly fell around him, brought Kylo back from the economy-related reverie. The joyous bird's song faded away into a quiet chirping and died out as soon as Kylo’s horse passed the last blooming tree. A rhythmic clatter of hooves turned into muffled thumps against a barely visible moss-grown path.

The change was sudden. Sweet-scented air fanned over Kylo’s cheeks and brow for the last time and flitted away.

Kylo shook off the last apple blossom petals from his hair and from the horse’s mane, giving Bread a heartening pat.

“I’ll give you all the apples you can eat, promise. But first, let's find that Arkanis place,” Kylo said.

Hearing his words, the horse quietly snorted and shook his head. He didn’t trust Kylo at all, as it seemed.

They trotted into the forest, and soon the vicinity lost all of its previous charms. The trees were bending their twisted branches over the meandering path, which was barely visible under the moss and litterfall.

Kylo quickly learned to lower his head after his face had met with a branch hidden underneath a cover of vivid green. He touched the reddening mark on his forehead and hissed with pain when it stung. He wanted to keep his head on his neck, but it was impossible when the path to his new employment threatened his wellbeing or life even.

“Well, Bread, I don't think this is the right direction,” Kylo spoke to his horse, who hesitantly waddled straight ahead.

Kylo rued that he hadn’t bought a map of this region when he had the chance. Not that anyone would sell one during the war, and especially to someone who looked like him. It was dangerous times for all who seemed different. Kylo had seen it in the North with his own eyes. That’s why he chose to hide his face under the hood. Not that it was any less suspicious, but he definitely heard fewer insults or curses hurled straight into his face.

With each and every step, Kylo went deeper into the woods on Bread’s back. Dense, deep green foliage let less and less daylight through. The air became stifling, oppressive even. The sweetness of decay filled Kylo's nose and mouth.

“No doubt—” Kylo coughed, trying to get rid of the fumes clinging on his face. “—that we’re lost.”

The clatter of hooves, crushing twigs and leaves, turned into an unpleasant squelching of a soaked ground.

Kylo jerked the reins and dig the heels of his boots in Bread’s sides, forcing the horse to a quick change of direction. The horse snorted nervously, falling pasterns deep into the slimed water.

Kylo gritted his teeth, holding back all the curses in all the languages he knew. Bogs and marshes were not written into his plan. He lambasted his new employer in his mind with every step that led them deeper into the foul-smelling water.

_You will pay me for this. And for new shoes for Bread—_

“Oh for fuck's sake!” Kylo howled when his almost dark leather boots plunged into the slime. He should have been prepared. Most of his contracts put him into the sewers, bogs and garbage dumps. He had smelled worse things, mostly dead or nearly dead. But now he was angry, furious for letting himself be tricked into that vast unknown of a job. Being calves deep in the watery goo didn’t help with lifting his spirits. He had bad, terrible feelings about this all over again.

Kylo took a deep breath, which probably wasn’t a bright thing to do, but when he let it go, he felt better.

Step by step, Kylo slowly pushed forward, forcing their way through the forest morass. He tried to lead Bread closer to the tussocks of moss and grass with long cutting leaves protruding from under the water. The horse waded obediently. He didn’t neigh, not even once.

Like a silvery veil, the mist slithered and twisted innocently between the horse’s legs. Soon, the haze raised, obscuring their way among the withered islets. There was nothing Kylo could do. Staying in one place, especially one like this, was out of the question. They had to go forward.

Kylo coaxed Bread to at least ride at a walk, but the horse only trembled when the milky-white haze touched his nostrils.

“Come on,” Kylo murmured, irritated. He didn’t see much either, but he trusted his other senses. He could easily navigate himself by the sound of water splashing around Bread’s hooves alone.

A sudden shriek cut through the stillness of the air. Bread danced on his back legs, frightened by the echo. Kylo barely managed to remain in the saddle. He tightened his legs around Bread’s sides as he struggled with the scared animal for a second or two.

Finally, Kylo stopped the horse amid the thickening fog. He wanted to give Bread some time to calm down, and himself to understand what was happening around him. He closed his eyes and started listening to his surroundings. Something bubbled and bleated on his right. Instead of another distressed scream, a plaintive, child-like whining reached Kylo’s ear, not that far from him too.

A delicate vibration on his chest shook Kylo out of a trance. He seized the pommel of the saddle and hoisted himself up from the stirrups. He clenched his free hand around the viper medallion hidden under his coat. The serpentine tangles bounced in his fingers like a frightened sparrow.

At least now he became confident that his bad feelings were not unjustified. Some people took his medallion as a mere trinket or an ornament he wore for his vanity. The truth was it had saved his life more than once in the past. He trusted his intuition and long years of training, yet the tiny serpent on his chest had never been mistaken before. Not when it came to magic. And now something malevolent was lurking in the fog, ready to attack and kill, ready to cut and slice its prey into tiny shreds of blood and meat.

Kylo let go of the medallion tussling on a silver chain around his neck and raked his fingers through his damp hair.

He didn’t have to use his eyes to realise that this was a trap. He pricked up his ears, but the haze deadened all the remaining sounds. The lull in the air fell on Kylo. The silence became almost deafening.

The attack came from nowhere. The mighty grip of sharp claws on Kylo’s leg tore him out the saddle. Bread kicked the emptiness in front of him with a squeal and galloped into the fog.

Kylo whirled mid-flight and reached behind him to his back. He rolled to the side and jumped on his feet.

“Crap!” Kylo winced. The pain spread from his injured calf to his knee he had landed on. He would kill for a vial of a Swallow potion right now, or at least a sip of a White Seagull, but Bread ran away with all his supplies.

He stood with his right foot slightly forward and knees bent. The pain was only mild discomfort, now that the battle excitement surged in his veins like fire. He twirled a sword by his side. The silver blade flamed with crimson runes.

“Show yourself, you little fuck,” hissed Kylo, swinging his sword. He slowly turned around on his bent knees.

The viper medallion went frantic, so Kylo slipped it under his armour. He looked around, slowly turning his head to the left and to the right. The air was still and windless, but the milky haze around him thinned down visibly. He could see the path disappearing in muddy water. The trunks of trees enveloped in the fog resembled twisted, eerie shades. Something moved noiselessly in the periphery of Kylo’s vision. He caught just a glimpse, a shadow with the corner of his eye. It disappeared when Kylo spun again.

Kylo padded a few steps. The water under his boots barely made a splashy sound. He lowered the sword, which was still kindling with a crimson glow, but stayed alert. He clasped his fingers around the hilt of his sword. The leather of his glove creaked. Kylo’s body ached for the fight.

The enchanted mist concealed sharp teeth and claws, and Kylo was eager to clash with them. Kylo’s breath quickened and his lips twisted in a tiny, nasty smile.

A hissing snarl reached Kylo’s ears just in time. He pirouetted, raising his armed hand. The claws crossed with the sword. The silver blade clanged. Kylo sprung back, ready for another attack, but his enemy dissolved in soupy fog.

The crawling haze enveloped Kylo, obscuring his vision once again. Kylo squinted and held his breath, listening intently in the oppressive silence of the mist that surrounding him. All he could hear for now was only his own heart beating unnaturally slowly. So calm, so quiet, almost serene, and yet the feeling of being observed and hunted by a beast never left him.

Kylo let the air out slowly and looked ahead. THERE! A tiny, pale glow flickered in vapours thick like milk. It was more of a siren’s song luring into a trap than a lighthouse in the dark of night.

A memory bloomed like an unwanted, poisonous flower in the back of Kylo’s head. He almost could smell the faint scent of books and dust.

 _Hideous._ Kylo shuddered when a familiar, quiet voice filled his thoughts. _Is it really that dangerous as they write here? That fogler? Are you even listening to me, B—_

A fogler, Kylo knew it only from a bestiary destroyed by dampness and generations of mouse teeth, and his teachers’ drunken stories. He had never happened on any of those creatures during his journeys. But he had hunted and fought enough necrophages to know that his silver blade would suffice.

The splash behind his back was so soft and quiet that an ordinary human would miss it, for sure, or take it as a sound of water moving.

Kylo jumped aside.

The dagger-sharp claws swished above his head. Something slurped and disgustingly smacked its lips.

But Kylo was long out of creature’s reach. He pivoted with a broad swing, ready to strike.

His sword hit the void. The glowing blade cut through the fog and nothing more.

The medallion on Kylo’s neck tugged digging almost painfully into his chest and trying to break free from under his leather jacket.

The mist swirled and rippled around him, yet Kylo waited. He felt his patience crumbling, but he stood still. There was no point in moving. The creature would come to him. They always did.

The fogler materialised right in front of Kylo, jumping out of the haze with a maw full of sharp, rotting teeth.

Kylo didn’t have to observe the creature, but it was so repulsive, so hideous, he hardly could gaze away from the fogler. Its bare, hairless head looked like a skull covered with a pallid skin of a drowned man.

An eerie light, which Kylo had seen before, glowed from its open ribcage and exposed spine. It was so pale and weak now, it barely illuminated the forest plunged in the mist.

The fogler snapped its jaw and swung his long arm.

“Come on, you ugly bastard!” Kylo growled, raising his sword.

He waited for the next attack. He shifted flat on his feet, the silver blade close to his body.

Right in front of Kylo, a second fogler emerged from the fog and then two other on his left.

All four monsters lunged at Kylo.

He blocked a high blow, then he turned and cut from above.

The fogler Kylo hit, hissed at him and dissolved into thin air.

Triumphant, Kylo charged and quickly whirled to parry another strike.

His blade hit the emptiness and cut through the haze in the place where one of the foglers had stood moments earlier. Kylo used the momentum to attack again. He tossed the sword and caught it with his left hand, his left palm already moving. Swishing through the air, a projectile of telekinetic energy dashed and hit the monster charging at him with fury.

A croak full of pain spilled in the fog around Kylo, and the foglers disappeared. All of them except for one.

Kylo hardly managed to shield himself when the clawed mitt hurled at him. He deflected the incoming attack with a terse gesture, but with enough force to provoke the fogler to back off. It almost worked.

 The other paw didn’t miss. The pain in Kylo’s left side blinded him for a second. He shielded himself involuntarily. It would not help him much if the strike had come from a different angle. He painfully clenched fingers of his free hand, almost breaking the leather of the glove. A familiar voice resounded inside his head. _Focus. Now!_ It worked like a charm. The vision came back to him in the right moment.

The fogler was rushing at him with a snarl.

Hissing with pain, Kylo swung his sword. The blade met the resistance of flesh. In the final attempt, the monster tried to fight, but Kylo pushed with his whole body strength. The tiny light in the fogler's chest shimmered and faded away.

Kylo took a step back, pulling out the sword. He cut high.

The still baring fangs head fell down on the ground.

As Kylo breathed out and lowered his weapon, the mist rose and dispelled.

The rotting body was lying by Kylo's feet, unmoving and beheaded. A stump of a neck oozed dark almost black blood and pus, which was mixing with water.

The head was gone, rolled away and drowning the bog. He didn’t need a trophy to prove anything. No one would pay him for that kill anyway.

He kicked the carcass out of his way straight into the boggy water. The cloggy mire burped and swallowed the fogler up.

Now, when the fogler was dead and gone, the mist abated and soon disappeared, showing Kylo his old path among grassy isles protruding from the water. Blunt pain in his side stopped him from jumping on tiny patches of green, but he couldn’t muster the courage to check his wounds. He couldn’t do much about them without his saddlebag.

“Bread!” Kylo called out for his horse. “Come on, boy! It’s safe now!”

Ankle-deep in mud, Kylo hobbled forward, trying to ignore the pain and exhaustion spreading through his body.

He found Bread soon enough, wishing he had not. The poor animal was lying just a few steps away from the path in the water with his belly split open.

“Shit,” sighed Kylo, crouching down by his horse’s flabby body. “I’m sorry, boy.”

He passed his finger over the tangled fawn mane. Bread might have been the biggest hysteric among all the horses Kylo had known, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.

Kylo reached out to a small sheath attached to a belt on his back, avoiding looking into open but now empty brown eyes. He still needed the contents of his saddlebag.

The knife cut through the leather strips, but it took Kylo time and strength to get out the bag from under the limp horse. He pulled and tugged, determined but too exhausted and sore to even get angry. His fingers were slipping on the leather fastenings wet with blood.

Something, the strap or Bread’s stiffening remains, gave to his doings and let go with his own body lunging into the air. Kylo fell rearwards, gliding on the wet ground, and landed hard with his butt half in the water, half on the grass.

He lay down, clasping the saddlebag tight to his chest. It actually wasn’t so bad. The turf was soft and weirdly comfortable. He could stay here forever, probably no one would care anyway.

He looked at the dark, wide-spreading crowns of trees, hanging low over his head.

“Oh, for crying out loud. Stop being a wuss,” Kylo told himself, sitting up. His hurt side cramped, almost making him hurl. He could use a sip of a Swallow right now.

Ignoring the pain, he rummaged around his bag.

“Shit! Shit. Shit.” Kylo slammed his fist on a patch of grass, his cheeks flushing.

Everything was ruined! His spare clothes were soaked with blood and reeking contents of his dead horse’s intestines.

Kylo reached deeper and pulled out a tattered wooden box. The lid stayed in his hands and the chest dropped on his lap, glass rattling inside. It couldn’t be a good sign.

All vials and bottles were cracked and leaking. His potion supplies spilt and flooded the bottom of the box. The mixture started hissing; a leaden-grey smoke soared right onto his face, stinging his eyes.

Kylo threw the chest far from him. He tore the gloves off and rubbed his face with the back of his hand. He needed a plan. He had his swords and some coins in his pouch. His steed was dead, but he still got the letter and the safe condu—

He jerked his head, a damp streak of hair stuck to his face. He didn’t bother to sweep it aside, fumbling around the saddlebag, throwing out all his belongings.

“Where is it? Damn!” Kylo felt the insides of the bag, but it was empty. He disarranged his clothes and finally found the letter tangled up into a once white shirt. It was spoiled like everything else. The words were smudged and hardly readable under splodges of crimson and brown. The azure seal broke in half in his fingers. It was a sheer disaster and his usual bad luck. And everything reeked of decays and shit.

Kylo sighed, wiping the blood from the piece of parchment. With enough trying one could decipher some of the words, like _dire_ , _Arkanis_ and _pass_.

There was nothing more he could do. He packed all his belongings that survived intact into the bag and got up.

The air cleared and the path became more and more visible as Kylo walked. Soon the forest thinned out around him; he could see the sky darkening and the first stars blinking over his head.

Kylo hastened his pace. He did want to traverse those woods any longer.

The first signs of trouble found him just a few steps later, when he chanced on a dead body of a man in a simple leather armour. He lacked an arm and half of his throat.

“Well, that’s just great.” Kylo reached for his sword. It seemed his bad luck decided to still pester him.

He trod carefully, his steps quiet and soft on the sandy soil, and his steel sword covering his injured side. The viper medallion sat calmly on his chest, which gave him some hope.

It didn’t last long, however. Kylo knew that the woe really found him when he saw the second horse carcass that day, and relatively fresh as well; the blood only just started to clot in the crisp air of the dusk. The body looked far worse than Bread’s, with its neck snapped at a weird angle and eyes gouged out

Kylo came closer to examine the corpse, still on his guard. Who knew what more was lying in wait among those trees.

The claw marks on both horse’s sides were long and deep, and the bite marks on the neck and back indicated something had fed on the horse right after the kill, and they matched the one and only creature that now occupied the bottom of the bog. At least he would not have to square off against a new beast.

Kylo took a deep breath and regretted it right away when the wave of pain spread from his side. He bent double, cursing his new employer and the world, and that fucking fogler as well.

As he stood there, catching his breath and fighting the overwhelming ache, he spotted a trail of horseshoes tracks underneath his boots; the hooves hadn’t dug deep into the soft soil.  He turned his head again to the horse. It made sense now. The animal lacked the saddle on its back. There should be a cart somewhere nearby.

Kylo forced his body to move and followed the tracks, faltering in the opposite direction from the nag.

A bit farther, he noticed ground tamped down by hooves and wheels. Someone had fought long to calm the horse down, but it had sprung and fled anyway.

The cart was more of a wagon, and Kylo found it laying knocked to the side in a ditch. Judging by a crude but colourful painting of flowers on a canvas and tiny copper bells scattered all around the scene, the wagon had to belong to some kind of itinerant merchant.

Kylo let his hand holding the sword to fall flat by his side. That was nothing new. Such things had happened in the past and would happen in the future. The trader had had even less luck than Kylo. The fogler must have caught them as well, but they had had no means to outrun or beat off the creature.

The crack of a twig alarmed Kylo, but he kept his hand steady.

Kylo tilted his head. “I know you’re there. Show yourself!”

The leaves rustled closer to the wagon.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” pleaded a shaky voice of an old man.

He whirled just to see the thick brushwood move somehow hesitantly.

“I won’t,” he said, slipping his sword into the sheath on his back. “See. You can come out now.”

The branches parted, showering the ground with dry leaves and berries. A tall, sinewy man emerged, a doubt gracing his shrivelled face.

“T-the monster, is it gone?” The man looked around, trembling visibly under his linen fur cloak.

“That specific one, yes. It’s dead.” Kylo turned his head to the wagon. “You can come out too, boy.” As he spoke, a head with a sand-coloured mop of hair peeped out from behind the canvas.

The boy looked at Kylo with eyes big as saucers.

“You both alright?” Kylo addressed the old man, ignoring his young companion’s fascinated gaze.

“Oh yes, kind sir.” The merchant regained his composure visibly, straightening up his back. “Our bodyguard took our carthorse and rode to bring help.”

Kylo connected all the facts. The dead man he had found had to be the mentioned bodyguard, and not very good at his job for that matter. He probably had stolen the horse and run for his life, or death rather, leaving those two to their own fate. Swords for hire were the worst kind. Kylo had met a few employed to hunt for monsters, cheating or failing miserably, and ending up dead. He had never pitied them, not even in the slightest; they took his job from him, messed everything up and forced him to mend their mistakes for a smaller coin.

“—with us? Sir?” He realised that the trader was standing closer to him with twigs and leaves in his arms.

“What?” He snapped, the anger on mercenaries still bubbling in his chest.

The old man knitted his brow but otherwise looked undaunted by Kylo’s short outburst. “Will you sit with us?”

Kylo could say no and walk away to look for a road leading to Arkanis at night. Or he could stay and warm up by a bonfire before a, who knew how long, walk. The latter was not a good idea, but he was tired and injured. A short rest would not do much harm.

“Gladly.” He nodded and sat heavily near a fallen tree.

The old merchant dug up a small pit and tried to kindle the fire, but the twigs were wet with evening dew drops. Kylo impulsively held his hand but withdrew it even faster. He could help but showing off his skill would only scare the man, and give away his identity. He didn’t want that.

Kylo decided to occupy his mind with another easier task that would let him unwind and focus on what was coming. He took out his sword to clean the blade.

“Are you hurt, mister?” The blonde boy perched on the tree trunk. His unwavering gaze shifted from Kylo’s sword, over his armour, to his bloody flank.

“I’m fine.” Kylo wrapped himself up with his coat tightly, covering injuries. “It’s the monster’s.”

The small merchant’s assistant was difficult to brush off.

“Did you kill it?” he asked again, leaning forward. “Did you use that sword? Why is it glowing like that?”

Kylo sighed under his breath. He had no patience with nosey people prying on his secrets, or with children. They were irritating in the same way.

“Yes. Yes. And those are magical runes,” he explained, putting the sword back into its sheath. He looked away to show their talk was over and held his hands to the fire crackling gaily in the pit.

But the boy wasn’t quite finished yet. “Hey, mister, why are you carrying two swords?”

Kylo bared his teeth but was interrupted by the merchant before he could say something unpleasant.

“Ivo, my boy, come here.” The man moved jauntily for someone his age. With one step, he separated the boy from Kylo.

“Buuut grandpa, I want—” Ivo didn’t look convinced, but something in the old man’s eye forced him to get up.

“This instant, Ivo!” He pushed his grandson behind him, considering Kylo from under his bushy white brows.

Just one glance at the merchant’s scowl made Kylo clench his jaw. He recognised a contempt when he saw one. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving a smear of blood in them. That probably didn’t help.

“Don’t come any closer, you— you freak!” sneered the merchant. He discovered courage gone before when the fogler had attacked them. He reached to his belt for a small pouch.

Kylo raised corners of his mouth but stopped himself from laughing. The times when he tried to defend himself or explain anything passed a long time ago when he was young and naïve. Now he did the only thing he could. Without a single word, he stood up and slowly reached for his saddlebag. But there was just one thing he needed.

He showed his hands palms up and finally spoke as calmly as he could. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble. Just tell me. Arkan—”

His words enraged the old man who hawked at him. Kylo stepped back, and a blob of yellowish green spit didn’t reach him.

“Don’t speak to me! You freak! You mutant! Monster! Begone!” The merchant swung his arm. His pouch flew high, curving in the air.

Kylo could duck or easily catch the small bag, but he stood still fixing his gaze on the old man. The pouch bounced off his chest and fell down at his feet. Thin leather thongs unravelled. Hundreds round grey and green pebbles scattered around, carpeting the ground.

“Turtle stones? Seriously?” Kylo barked a laugh. The rocks scrunched underfoot when he stepped on them with his heavy boot. The merchant backed out, almost knocking over his own grandson; the boy skittered away deftly and caught the old man from a certain fall.

“Like I said. I won’t harm you,” Kylo spoke for the last time. He pulled over the hood deep over his brow to hide his eyes and pale face.

And then he just left Ivo and his grandfather alone.

 

*

 

He didn’t get far when he heard a sound of small feet chasing him.

“Mister! Oi! Mister, wait!” He wanted to ignore the tiny voice calling him at first. His usual hunch made him stop.

As Kylo turned, Ivo ran straight into him. His hand sprung clutching the boy by the arm and saving him from landing on the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He inclined his head. “What are you doing here, boy? Your grandfather will beat you black and blue.”

“Are you really a vedymin?” Ivo finally caught his breath and beamed at Kylo. He didn’t look concerned or scared as the old merchant, and that was why Kylo nodded slowly.

“You are going to Arkanis, right?” The boy waved his hand on the road ahead of him. “You need to go to the very end of this path. There’s a road leading up the hill. Behind that there’s Arkanis.”

Kylo listened to the boy with growing disbelief. He was really that close to this fucking city! And all he had was a series of misadventures.

“Well, thanks,” he said trying to sound grateful and not angry. “Now, off you go.”

He turned his back to Ivo with no word of goodbye.

“Be careful, mister!” Ivo shouted behind him as Kylo walked. “Grandpa said Arkanis is a rotten city!”

Kylo shrugged. That sounded a little ominous, but the rotten city was exactly the place he envisioned his employer in. Nothing more and nothing less, and there was also something quite comforting in that thought that kept him walking forward.

 

*

 

 

The sun was setting over the city that spread proudly on both sides of the sparkling river below, flooding everything with warm, soft light of gold and orange. In the distance, a flock of white and grey birds rose from masts. They flew up over cloud-like sails of ships gliding slowly, circling and dashing through smoke spiralling upwards from chimneys. Behind the tall stone wall, many brown- and red-roofed houses were hiding, hugging to each other. And above all that, on a heather grom hill, a castle overlooked the city presenting haughtily two spires soaring into to sky. Tiles on their roof shimmered with all shades of blue, green and violet in the final light of the day.

It looked pompous and tacky, and Kylo didn’t care much about it. Maybe if he were less tired and sore, he would look at Arkanis with a different eye, but he had walked half of the night, and climbed that hill, that felt more like a fucking mountain to him—his feet and his aching body— and for a good portion of a day.

A winding path led Kylo down to a broad high road. It was getting dark as he walked. He passed a bunch of people coming back from the city. A couple of peasants dragging a cow on a rope walked around him, whispering and pointing at him. They were not the only ones treating him like a leper before he even reached the main gate of the Arkanis.

But finally, he was there. Kylo had been planning what he was going to do in the city. Finding an inn was an obvious choice. Later a bath, and then some hot fare with a lot of meat. He licked his lips at the sole thought of food.

Kylo stopped and craned his neck. The crest of Arkanis with fishes and towers flaunted the top of the gates, brightly lit by many torches. The entrance itself was enormous. And closed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mumbled, stepping closer when two guards shielded the way with their halberds.

“And where do ya think ya goin’, ya mutt?” asked the taller of the guardsmen, his voice harsh and breathy.

“To Arkanis,” spoke Kylo calmly, fiddling with his hood. It would be better if those men would not see his eyes reflecting the light.

“We’ve got a jester here.” He turned his pockmarked face to his companion, a visibly younger man with short black hair and crooked teeth.

“I think it’s a jester, sarge.”

“Don’t tell me what I know, Marko, you little shit.” Sarge whacked Marko hard in his arm with an armoured hand.

Kylo lowered his head. The fatigue and soreness finally got to him, and those two fucking idiots were standing on his way to rest. He would gladly smack both of them, but he needed no troubles right now.

The guards were bickering, ignoring him on purpose. That one was obvious. They had taken him for a beggar, and no wonder considering how he must have looked right now. He took a deep breath and realised something. He still had the letter.

Kylo patted his chest and rummaged his pockets. There it was, folded inside his jacket. The parchment managed to dry, and the half of the seal was still intact. It didn’t look pretty, but it was his only shot.

He cleared his throat, staring at the guardsmen from under the brim of his hood.

“Gentlemen, I have this,” he announced, raising his hand with the letter in it.

Both men turned to him. Sarge bore an expression of fake disinterested on his face, but Marko was more eager to start a fight.

“You still here,” he spat out and tightened his grip on the handle of his halberd.

Calmness was evaporating from Kylo with every minute. He tried so hard to control himself. “This? Oh, this is my free pass.”

It was supposed to make everything easier, he honestly had thought that; that was until he saw Sarge squinting at the stained document.

“Your free pass, huh?” The older guard peeked at his companion. “And what does it look to ya, Marko?”

“A piece of shit.”

Both guards cackled nastily. Kylo’s hand trembled when he almost shoved the letter straight into Sarge’s face.

“I got it from the General—” he hesitated. Shit, what name he was he using here? Kylo couldn’t remember the flourish signature at the end of disquisition. He had always stopped at _yours truly_ that had shaken his anger to the core. Just like now.

“Suuure, yeah,” mocked Sarge. “And I know the Emperor of Nilfgaard.”

Kylo’s hand itched to grab for his sword and to wipe the smirks off on guardsmen’s face. He could almost feel the weight of the weapon in his hand and hear the screams of terror. It would be glori—

Something disturbed the vision playing in his mind. Was it a crunch of gravel under heavy armoured boots, or clang of steel, or maybe a swish of air behind his back. Kylo was in the middle of a trained pirouette, with his hand on the sword’s handle, when a hard punch sent him on the ground. He saw stars and then nothing at all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artwork was done by wonderful and patient [katiesghosts](http://katiesghosts.tumblr.com/)  
> Many thanks to my beta [huxandthehound](https://huxandthehound.tumblr.com/)

**Chapter 2**

 

 

 

“You can’t come in there! I’m speaking to you!” An angry roar filled Kylo’s floating mind like a thousand battle drums. They banged and screamed and rolled until they woke him up.

Kylo sat up, immediately regretting that decision. The world around him spun and turned in all directions at once. He leaned over something cold and damp but didn’t care. The coolness brought relief to his sore body. He closed his eyes again, focusing solely on what ached him more.

He passed his finger over his face and hissed. His left eye was swollen and throbbed in the same rhythm as his head. Kylo knew all of it would heal fast, but the thought that someone had euchred him, pained the most with stinging embarrassment.

He moved, slowly testing his limbs and muscles. The injury on his side started to heal, which was a good sign;  someone, however,  had a dubious pleasure in kicking him on his back and ribs. He had had to be unconscious at that time. Otherwise, he would have snapped their necks.

Gritting teeth brought Kylo only more pain that spread to the back of his head.

“Shit,” he mumbled and finally opened his eyes. His pupils widened, accommodating to the darkness around him.

He had a vague idea where he resided right now. The cold and damp surface under his palm was definitely a stone wall. He was sitting on something hard and uncomfortable, but not a floor, more like a pallet or a bunk bed. The air reeked with mould and mustiness. So, it was a prison of some kind.

“Fucking great.” Instead of getting his contract and money he ended up in some stinky dungeon. Not that it didn’t happen to him before, but this time, no one knew he was locked up here. He had no friend or even an acquaintance in Arkanis. Well, there was one person, but who would believe him. The idiots at the city gates had not.

A thump in the dark shook him from wallowing in self-pity. He jerked his head in that direction, covering his eyes with a hand when the door creaked open, an orange light flooding his cell.

A tall and looming silhouette filled up the wooden doorframe.

“Are you the witcher?” The person at the door didn’t waste their time. They stepped inside with a lantern in their hand, letting its gleam to sweep over Kylo.

That Kylo didn’t expect at all. Someone knew he was in Arkanis and was aware of his profession. Someone else than the general.

“Well?” they urged when he didn’t respond.

“Yes. Yes, I am one.” Kylo racked his fingers through his hair, now sticky with dirt and blood, and shoved them back away from his face.

His eyes had to be a proof good enough for them. With the face still in the shadow, they backed out from the cell.

“What are you waiting for? Come.”

That was enough for Kylo. He jumped from the pallet and followed his rescuer on still-little shaky legs. At least his head stopped spinning, even if his side caused him mild shooting pains.

Outside the cell, a bald and skinny as a stick man waited for them.

“I haven’t approved it!” He puffed out his reddening cheeks.

Kylo’s companion shrugged slightly. He still couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman. The polished armour fitted tightly on their body, and their face was hidden under something closer to a mask than a helmet; a wild animal bared its fangs on it.

“Issue that man’s possessions, warden,” they spoke, their voice distorted by the mask.

“I’m not taking orders from you.” The warden swelled up even more on his face. “You aren’t in power here, woman.”

The last word was said with disdain, evidently supposed to be an insult, but the lady knight didn’t speak a word. She moved quietly, she moved fast. Kylo was sure she could kill the warden if she wanted to, but she only caught the man by his thin, bird-like throat and squeezed a little.

 “It’s Captain Phasma to you, worm.” She tightened her grip on the warden’s windpipe. “You very well know who is in power here. So, you better listen to your orders and step down.”

The man goggled his eyes and rasped, trying to catch his breath. “Y-yes, m-ma’am.”

The Captain shoved him on the wall and turned to Kylo, completely ignoring man’s agonising wheezing.

“Take your stuff. We’re leaving.” She marched out the prison, her boots clicking on the stone floor.

Kylo looked around. His swords and saddlebag lay on a small wooden table. He grabbed them and ran after Phasma. He covered two steps at once climbing the stairs. On his way up, he checked the bag. All of his less ruined things were inside. Except for his pouch.

“Son of a…” Cursing, he dashed out from the door left open by Phasma . Those fuckers had attacked him and taken his money. It wasn’t much, but those were the last coins he had left for lodging and food. He walked so exasperated he almost ran into the captain waiting for him. She pushed him away but clenched her fingers on Kylo’s forearm, considering him silently.

He couldn’t see her face, but he could almost sense her disapproval. Her cold blue eyes glaring at him from behind the mask told him as much.

“I know how I look.” Involuntarily, he pulled the frayed hood over his head to cover his dirty face and all the signs of who he truly was. “It has been a rough couple of days.”

“I can imagine.” Phasma let go of him and waved her hand towards two horses, a dun in a cavalry saddle and a chestnut looking more civilian. “Hopefully, they won’t mind.”

She handed reins Kylo, and swung herself into the saddle.

The chestnut swayed its head, neighing with aversion when Kylo approached, but after a few gentle strokes let him be persuaded to mount its back.

Kylo drew level with Phasma who spoke no word to him as they rode side by side.

Arkanis seemed smaller and murkier from up close. They squeezed past stalls with shrivelled fruits and vegetables, dried herbs, loaves of bread and rolls, and cheap trinkets. Patrons and passers-by dogged and hid in backstreets to avoid their horses’ hooves clattering briskly on cobblestones.

Soon their path widened, rough stones turned into ones smoothed by a hand of a craftsman. People changed as well. They looked healthier, happier, they dressed better. Kylo guessed they rode into a better district. One thought haunted him right now. He glanced at Phasma. Reading her was difficult. He appreciated her lack of talkativeness, but there were things he wanted to know.

“Listen,” he started, worrying if she would answer to his doubts at all.

Phasma rode straight and tall, didn’t even look at Kylo when she finally spoke. “Yes?”

“The thing is, well, I don’t have any money to stay anywhere in this city,” Kylo blurted up. “Someone stole them.”

“I see.” They passed through a few crossroads before she turned her masked face to Kylo. “Don’t worry about that. There’s an accommodation that awaits you.”

“Seriously?” Kylo furrowed his brows. It wasn’t uncommon for an employer to host a witcher in their home, or at least pay for a place to stay. It simply didn’t occur to him it would happen this time, after everything that had happened.

“But of course.” Phasma reined back her horse and gave Kylo sign to do the same. “We’re going there right now.”

They stopped at the exit of a street that opened up into an enormous square. Kylo hadn’t seen anything like it, even when he had travelled across the Nilfgaardian Empire. It was mostly empty, with no stalls or booths in sight, and yet it was occupied by something gargantuan in proportions.

“What the…” He had no words to describe that monstrosity, so he only gaped at it.

Phasma let a small snort of laughter. “Ah, yes. Now that you’ve seen our prime example of modern architectural art. Welcome to Arkanis, witcher.”

They rode up closer, and Kylo felt overwhelmed by the building predominating over the square. Golden roof tiles gleamed blindingly in the noon sun. White walls had to be cleaned quite often, they shone like fresh snow on a sunny winter morrow. Soaring columns rose up on both sides of tall glass-stained windows. The colours of scarlet and orange made Kylo think of flames.

“It can’t be,” he murmured under his breath. “Don’t tell me those Eternal Fire fuckers ended up so far South?”

“Hush,” the Captain silenced him. “Not so loud, especially not here.”

Kylo didn’t expect to see the fully erected temple of Eternal Fire in a place like Arkanis. Novigrad yes, but here, so close to Nilfgaardian border? Never. He wondered who let that happen, but he didn’t dare to ask Phasma about that. There was one more matter that bothered him, and he got his answer moments later when they reached a small space circled by an iron wrought fence at the foot of high stairs.

“And that too, huh?” he commented wincing at three stakes at the centre of the circus, each surrounded by thick logs of wood, and each covered with scorch marks. “It’s more Novigrad style. Are you fine with that?”

Phasma visibly clamped her gloved fingers around reins. “Everybody does what is necessary to survive.”

That was so rich, Kylo almost laughed her off, but in the end, he said not a word. The Captain fell silent as well and stayed this way even when they left that cursed square and the grotesque temple behind their backs.

They followed a broad street that turned and led up closer and closer to the castle. Some people were staring at them openly, others avoided or ignored them, but soon the crowd thinned out as well as houses, now mostly hidden behind brick walls.

Their horses panted and snorted climbing all the way to the keep on the hill, and when Kylo mused why there were heading there, Phasma made her dun turn right into the smaller counterpart of the city gates. A guard outside saluted the Captain, throwing out his armoured chest, and let them in without comment. He didn’t even look at Kylo, his eyes just glided over, and then he went back to his post.

Kylo rarely had been in places like that, but he could recognise a district only for the cream of the society. The streets were spotless, planted with miniature pine trees, and walls built so high, the villas behind them were not visible. It was easy to guess who could live here: aristocrats bored by their country estates, wealthy merchants, bankers, and, evidently, his future host.

Phasma slowed down to a walk and halted her steed right in front of an entrance, iron intricately wrought and bent into marvellous flowers and leaves. The wall on either side was overgrown with bindweed, blooming in all shades of violet, pink, red and blue, despite the Spring being far too young for such a feast of colours.

Kylo’s medallion twisted beneath his shirt, but he knew even without that hint. The air was syrupy with magic. Someone tempted their fate, or maybe they were more than aware and had done all that on purpose.

The gates in front of them opened just slightly and a small dark-haired man peeked outside.

“Captain Phasma,” he squeaked and cleared the wrought doorway for them. “Master expected you earlier. He’s not here.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Phasma looked at Kylo. “Well, this is your stop, witcher. Mitaka will take care of you.”

She didn’t wait for words of gratitude, just waved her hand and rode off.

Kylo watched her straight back and her horse’s tightly braided tail disappeared around the corner.

“Sir?” A quiet cough drew his attention again to the man by the entrance. “Come inside, please.”

Kylo jumped off the saddle, which perhaps still wasn’t the best idea. He flinched but led the horse inside through the gate.

When he crossed the threshold, Kylo felt as if he found himself in another world. He was surrounded by a fresh green of young plants and the pleasant earthy smell of moist soil, as he followed the man called Mitaka through a garden similar to a maze of verdure.

The thicket of bushes and tiny trees diminished with Kylo’s every step and soon opened into a stone-lined courtyard. Its centre was basked in the shadow of an already blooming tree. White petals were covering the ground like never-melting snow.

Kylo tipped his head and looked around. Open arcaded galleries enclosed the courtyard and met with a lofty tower soaring up into the sky like a spire.

He almost ran into Mitaka who stopped and peeked over his shoulder waiting for Kylo.

“Someone will take care of the horse.” Something in the lackey’s eyes noticeably spoke what he thought about their scruffy guest, but his tone remained calmly polite. “Follow me, sir.”

Kylo scratched the chestnut goodbye and went after Mitaka. He didn’t like being ordered around, but what choice did he have right now? He needed to meet his employer who had a tendency to hand him over like a hot potato. Was he afraid of seeing Kylo? That was unthinkable, but also understandable. Kylo felt that as well, the anxiety of an old yearning building up in his chest and seeping slowly down to his stomach. The closer he got, the worse it became. And he had only one way to handle it: to turn all of it into cold, unforgivable anger, he had never dealt with.

 

*

 

He didn’t want to dwell on the past. He’d done that before, and it didn’t end well back then. He decided to focus on here and now.

Kylo looked around, listening to their footsteps–his heavy clumping, and Mitaka’s almost noiseless pad–reverberating through the high and spacious hall.

Soft light, coming through a stained-glass skylight above his head, painted all the white, voluted surfaces over with all tints of blue, green and violet. Kylo felt as if he was submerged deep in the sea.

He’d happened to hunt in elven ruins on more than one occasion, and this place, this palace, it looked so much like them, all ornaments carved patiently in white stone with magic and with such artistry, even Kylo sighed under his breath with admiration as he trudged across the hall.

“Master wished to dine with you, sir.” Mitaka slowed down and waited for Kylo. “Unfortunately, he was called elsewhere.”

“That’s fine.” Kylo stopped, towering over the paling lackey. “All I need is a place to sleep.”

“Yes, of course.” Mitaka nodded and showed Kylo narrow stone steps hidden behind a swirling column. “Master wants you to feel welcomed. He thought you might like to refresh first.”

Kylo’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. He had no idea what was worse, the fact Mitaka said that title with a weird adoration, or that the man behind it thought he knew Kylo so well, even after all those years. He had no right, not anymore.

The urge in Kylo to put his fist into a wall came and passed, washed away by his own decision to stay calm. He came here on his own, nobody forced him. And the bath was a sound idea.

“Fine,” he said and followed Mitaka.

 

*

 

The stairs wound down and narrowed with every step they took. Kylo hunched his shoulders and bent his head. He pulled off his swords when their hilts grazed the ceiling for the second time and carried them both in one hand.

The lower they went, the colder it became, and more slippery too. Kylo clutched to the wall when his foot slipped from uneven stones the stairs were made of. A tinge of frost thawed under his fingers. They had to be very low under the house, and all of it resembled more a way to a dungeon than to guest quarters.

“Are you alright, sir?” Mitaka didn’t stop or turn, even when he heard Kylo struggling. He probably knew those interminable stairs by heart, every crack, every bump. Unlike Kylo who took a deep breath, trying to keep his balance in the dark.

“Fine.” His breath fogged before him as he spoke.

“We’re almost there.” To support his words, Mitaka squeezed through an entrance so small, even he had to stoop a little to fit in.

Kylo puffed the string of curses and jolted through the archway. He uncurled to the most extraordinary view. They stood in an open cave which someone ingenious turned into private baths.

The place was bright and pleasantly warm. The medallion on Kylo’s chest never stopped vibrating, of course, magic was involved here too.

The celadon water in a natural pool gleamed in the golden light of lanterns. It itched Kylo to shed his stinky, grimy clothes and plunge in the crystal clear water.

“The pool is at your disposal,” spoke Mitaka turning his gaze to Kylo. “But master would be greatly displeased if you soiled the water.”

Kylo wouldn’t blame anyone to have murderous intents over the pool. The smell on him was appalling even to him. He just as well could roll about in a pile of compost and sprinkle his head with shit. It would be a shame to ruin this place.

“Your bath is ready.” Mitaka waved at Kylo and showed him the corner of the cave where an enormous tub awaited.

A steamy haze hung over the calm surface, luring Kylo with a promise of warmth and cleanliness he had missed on his way to Arkanis.

“Let me take care of these,” added the lackey and touched the hilts of the swords in Kylo’s hand.

“No!” Kylo jerked away cradling his weapons to his chest. He would never let anyone touch them. They were his most prized possession, he’d worked hard to have them customised like that, with rare alloys and unique runes created by a wizard far North.

“Sir, they will be waiting for you safely in the guest room.”

Kylo scowled but shook his head eventually “Fine. But if I find a single scratch on one of them—”

“I would never!” Mitaka gasped put out by the threat. Despite visible indignation showing on his pale face, he gently pried the sword from Kylo’s grasp and took them away along with the saddlebag.

 

*

 

An eerie calm settled down in Kylo’s mind when he was finally left alone in the cavern. Warmth nested in his chest, sprawling not fast enough into his still numb and cold limbs. It was all the fatigue, hunger and soreness that left his hands slightly trembling. He couldn’t help the gut-wrenching hunger that made his stomach growl, or the overwhelming weariness that was slowly taking over his thoughts.

Kylo hissed through gritted teeth as he lost his jacket and unclasped all the fastenings of the light chainmail that he was wearing underneath. He watched them fall to the ground, and soon his blood and sweat-stained shirt followed.

It wasn’t smooth nor pleasant to tear the fabric thick with dirt away from his body. Kylo carefully passed his fingers over his side, injured by fogler’s claws. It was just as he suspected. Clotted blood, dark and dry, crumbled under his fingertips revealing reddened already healed skin.

He had been unlucky that the creature hit too precisely into the splice of his chainmail. As it turned out, it wasn’t just his side, which was now only a little sore. After a quick inspection, he noticed severe tears in the leather and many broken metal rings. It was evident that his jacket and armour might be ruined beyond repair. He wouldn’t be able to do anything about it on his own.

Kylo chewed on his lower lip. He would need to find a skilful armourer to fix those tears. But he also needed money for that, a lot of money by looking at the damage. He doubted he would get a down payment.

He undid his belt and loosened leather straps of his trousers, still going through all of his options, but there weren’t many. His future seemed a little fogged right now, he had no real plan, not until his employer would appear. And even that seemed less than promising, considering who that might be. It shouldn’t really matter, and it wouldn’t bother him anymore. This bath was the first nice thing that happened to him in many days, so he could at least try and enjoy it.

He let the trousers to slip off his hips and pool around his feet. He shivered when warm air fanned his naked body. He looked around, rubbing his arms with his hands.

There was a  stack of clean linen neatly folded sheets and a selection of bath salts and fragrant oils in jars and bottles waiting at his disposal on a small table.

Kylo collected a few crystal vials and stepped into the tub. Hot water stung his bruised skin as he sat down, but when it washed over him, he started to relax. He leaned against the polished wood and let a small sigh of content. That was really nice.

He poured a handful of water on his head. Wet strands of hair fell down on his face, but he didn’t bother with brushing them away.  He groped around for the oils. The bottles, clinking against each other, slipped from his hands and into the tub with a splash. Kylo fished out one of the vials, wet glass slithered in his fingers ready to escape him once more, but he caught it and uncorked it. The fragrance of musk and sweet mint filled the air around Kylo. He remembered that one well, not many scents brought him that colourful memories he would rather forget about.

Kylo plopped it back into the water and reached for another bottle. He mistrustfully sniffed its contents, the oil smelled like summer fruits, peaches and blackberries. It wasn’t something he really liked. He was going to stink like candied fruits, but at least it was free of flashbacks of pretty eyes and elated laugh.

He spilt all of the oil on his head, letting it flow on his arms, back and chest. He scoured his body and raked his hair hard to get rid of all the dirt. Kylo didn’t avoid the bruised places or treat them gently. Even when he flinched or sucked in the air, that pain was invigorating and helped him stay focused.

He plunged his head under the water, hoping that all the blood and some parts of the fogler would finally come off, together with a morbid stench of decay and death.

When Kylo bobbed up, he finally felt like human again, or partially human in his case.  He raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing out the excess water. Damp streaks started to curl at its ends, so he slicked them back. He reclined against the tub. The warmth of water lulled him; his eyelids felt heavier and heavier.

 

 

 

He wasn’t sure what woke him first, was it the disturbing clicking noise coming from afar but getting closer, his viper medallion going crazy, or maybe just creaking of door hinges?

Kylo sat up abruptly just in time to see the massive double door materialise on the wall few steps from the tub and open wide. A tall man wearing all black crossed the threshold, accompanied by the strident clatter of heels.

When the first shock of being ambushed while naked and drowsy passed, Kylo could take a good look at the stranger.

The man was gazing at him with eyes colder than the snowstorms in the far North.

“You are a hard man to find,” he spoke, and Kylo knew that voice. He would recognise this timbre, now more mature and icy, everywhere, even if the face didn’t exactly match his memories.

“Fortunately for me, you also have quite a reputation, Ben.” He came closer to the tub, his eyes flickered over Kylo’s face, chest and the rest of his body barely hidden under an almost transparent surface.

“It’s Kylo Ren now,” said Kylo through gritted teeth, but his anger didn’t impress the other man much.

He stood there, upright, with a riding crop in his hand tapping gently against the knee-high boot, his eyes piercing the witcher with the intent of raging sea. “Oh, I’ve heard.”

Kylo had promised himself to stay calm and focused in the presence of that particular man if he ever met him again, but it turned out to be more difficult with wet, bare ass on display and that greyish-green gaze judging him.

 “So, you were looking for me,” Kylo barked. His hands tightened into fists as if on their own.

 “I’m here. What do you want, Armi—” He was cut short.

“Hux.” The crop swished and snapped hitting the leather.

“What?”

“It’s Hux. I would prefer you call me that.” It sounded like a courteous request but streaked with an undertone of someone who was accustomed to giving commands for a long time.

“Sure, why not.” Kylo moved to the opposite brim of the tub, closer to Hux, and looked at him with as much venom as he could muster. “What do you want, Hux?”

Hux paraded around the tub making Kylo shift in the water again.

“Yes, we have a great deal of matters to discuss,” he spoke approaching the table. He brushed the bottle and jars with his fingers and took a sheet from the stack. “But first things first… Ren.”

He handed the witcher the linen. “Not that I mind the view, but it would be much more comfortable for both of us.”

The gesture itself was precise and languid, and Kylo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the hand in black leather glove. He yanked out the textile and grunted: “Do you mind?”

Without any unnecessary words, Hux turned around—admiring the details on one of the lanterns hanging low from the ceiling.

Kylo scrambled out from the tub and hastily dried himself. He considered staying naked, just out of pure spite so Hux could see what he had missed; but in the end, he wrapped clean linen around his hips. He did it for the business and the contract that was waiting for him, nothing more. Any revenge on Hux could wait until he would get paid for his job.

This time, he didn’t need his medallion to sense the change in the air. Magic rippled through the cave like a thunderbolt, crawling over Kylo’s flesh and raising the hair on the back of his neck.

The spell was less than subtle. Kylo saw a sphere of honey golden light ascending from Hux’s palm. The higher it rose, the darker it became, until it reached the canopy of the cavern. The bubble burst soundlessly, the dust like mist flowing down and sinking into the stone walls. It left no mark, but the weight of the spell hung heavily over their heads for a few moments until all of it dissolved in a sudden stroke of Hux’s hand.

Kylo jerked his head at a scraping noise somewhere behind him. A stool—bouncing and sliding on the floor—hit him into the back of his calves with force so grated, it made him sit down; the sheet soaring around his waist.

Hux turned to Kylo, his hand falling to his side.

“Now we can talk,” he announced with a tiny smile playing on his lip. “I hope you are comfortable enough.”

“Maybe first you tell me what the hell was that?” Kylo waved around with one hand, while with the other one he tried to calm down the unruly piece of fabric. He suspected the worst when it came to Arm— Hux. He had even changed his fucking name.

Hux watched Kylo struggling for a short while, his fingers twitching ever so slightly.

“A shielding spell,” he explained eventually.

“You don’t trust your servants?” Kylo stated more than asked.

Hux shrugged, his veneer calm—almost cold—except for his irises that glinted vividly like two emeralds. “Why would I?”

The gleam in his eyes faded, slowly turning back into the stormy sea Kylo knew the best.

“This is not ideal,” Hux spoke again, pacing around. “But it is crucial to keep your presence in Arkanis a secret.”

Kylo squirmed nervously on his seat. His gaze glided over Hux’s face, his sharp cheekbones and tiny fiery curls that escaped from his perfectly slicked back hair. Had they always been that auburn? Or maybe it was the light playing tricks on his eyes and memories.

“Nothing I say can leave this room.” Hux looked Kylo in the eyes but turned his head away as if he didn’t like what he saw. “You will be paid handsomely for your job and keeping a low profile. I hope you understand.”

Kylo nodded, water dripping from his hair-ends that brushed his shoulder. “I worked in confidence before, but you have to tell me what’s that all about. Hux.”

Hux froze in the middle of the turn and stood there still for a few seconds with his hand held out to Kylo.

They stared at each other until Hux inclined his head and took a deep breath.

“I work for the Duke,” he said, sounding like he was going to give a lecture. “But he probably would want to convey all the details himself.”

“Oh, perfect,” Kylo mumbled, irritated.

Hux ignored him entirely and continued, playing with a silver pendant hanging low on his neck on a long thin chain. “Something is killing m— our citizens.”

“You know, that could just be one citizen killing others,” Kylo replied, mesmerised by the spectacle Hux’s fingers were making with the necklace by twirling and turning it around.

“Provided that said citizen is armed with claws and fangs then it’s probably normal and we won’t need your help.” Hux’s accent became clipped with every word he said. He stuffed the pendant under his jacket. “Don’t think me a fool.”

The air vibrated and crackled with magic, this time unintentional, as Kylo glimpsed on Hux’s face. He wasn’t sorry, but he also didn’t want to perish because of Hux’s sudden outburst.

“Fine, fine. You said claws and fangs; so I assume you’ve seen the body?”

“Bodies,” Hux corrected Kylo. “But yes, I had seen them, or rather what had been left of them.”

As he was speaking, the overwhelming pressure of magic around them fainted and finally disappeared. “I counted six in total, and mostly whole. I don’t think that was a—”

“I need to see them!” Kylo interrupted Hux and stood up. The stool went flying behind him and hit the table. The glass bottles and jars rolled down on the floor, jingling, crashing and shattering into tiny fragrant pieces.

Hux scowled at the ruckus. “I’m aware, but you have to meet with the Duke first.”

“Fine, take me to him.” Kylo was ready to go, even wrapped in the wet sheet. The tiredness passed, and he was ready to take action. The deepening furrow between Hux’s eyes kept him in place.

“What is it?”

“Today is not a good day,” Hux sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How do you expect me to do my job then? Do I look like a fucking miracle worker to you?” Kylo snapped, closing distance between them with one step. “You called me here. So let me work!”

He couldn’t stand people hindering him. The vision of a well-paid job blurred and receded. And Kylo knew who to blame. He was standing in front of him, smug as always.

Hux didn’t budge, but his disapproving glare stopped Kylo again. “Believe me, Ren. You will get your contract and money, and whatever it is that you want, but not today.”

“How do you—”

“Not important,” Hux spoke, suddenly in a rush. “I will fix an audience with Duke. Mitaka will take good care of you while I’m gone.”

“Wait, Hux, what?”

“Stay here and rest.” Hux turned on his heels and left with brisk decisive steps, the clicking of his boots followed him. If he had a cape on his shoulders, it would flutter nobly. Kylo could almost see a dark cloak billowing behind Hux’s back as he walked away.

Kylo clenched his fist, staring at the empty wall where the door had been only moments ago.

“You little prick,” he growled, but only echo answered him.

 

*

 

The clatter of his own heels on a marble flooring irritated Hux. On any regular days, he loved how that sound—loud and harmonic _click click_ resounding while he walked—affected people, the fear in their eyes, their faces white with terror when he walked in; but not today. Today the control he had over himself and the magic slipped through his fingers like sand.

Hux climbed the stairs, thoughts and memories racing through his head. He remembered  Ben so well as if he’d never left Hux’s mind.  A tall lanky boy with long limbs and ears sticking out. There was nothing lanky about Kylo Ren. There were no warm brown eyes, only cat-like pupils in yellow irises watching him with contempt.

Dwelling on such childish things and on the past was foolish, and Hux knew it. He simply couldn’t help himself. The memory of Ben had burnt in him for many years until he’d learnt to contain it, suppress it and kill it. And now it came back in the person of Kylo Ren, the witcher.

Hux stopped by a stained-glass window. At this time of the day, the sun had long passed; the glass flowers were matt and dead. Hux clicked the heels against each other. The next few steps Hux took were soft and noiseless. He was close. The magic here was delicate and tasted like music, resonating with his own powers.

There; a portrait surrounded by dozens of bouquets greeted Hux.

The flowers needed to be replaced, he noted. He would take care of it later.

“ _Ceádmil, hlaith máthair_ ,” he spoke, craning his neck to look into painted eyes, emerald green and all knowing. He’d never had to say a word about what troubled him; she’d always known and always had advice for him.

“I may have made a mistake, mother,” Hux sighed, knowing well she couldn’t answer. He came here sometimes, when his duties started to weigh him down. It was so peaceful here, in his mother’s shrine. He would sit under her calming gaze and ponder, then walk back to the world with his determination renewed. “I brought back an old doom on myself, but Arkanis needs him. My city needs a witcher. Was it the right thing to do? I don’t know.”

_Armitage, my dear son_ , a loving voice shimmered in his head, _my darling son. You do it again. Obsess no more. You know what path lies ahead of you and what is there to do._

It was a memory, nothing more. But she’d been right back then. Hux decided to listen to her once more. He needed a different approach to deal with this situation, and there was a new plan hatching in his head already.

 


End file.
